


The Three of Us

by Violet_Rose_Of_Darkness



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Abuse, Adams is a dick, Chance Meetings, F/F, F/M, Multi, OOC characters, Polyamory, Post-Divorce, Threesome - F/M/M, Washingdad, this is probably trash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-04-22 03:53:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14300193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violet_Rose_Of_Darkness/pseuds/Violet_Rose_Of_Darkness
Summary: Angelica Schuyler, Alexander Hamilton, and Thomas Jefferson. Three abused teenagers all leading separate lives in different parts of New York City. What happens when these three happen to meet under unlikely circumstances?What happens when strange feelings begin to surface as well?





	1. Angelica Schuyler

**Author's Note:**

> This is just something I wanted to try out. I apologize in advanced if I write certain characters vastly out of character, but it's the only way the story fits. Feel free to yell at me in the comments. Also, there will be abuse in this story. I'm not sure how explicit some of it will be, so be warned if any of you are triggered easily by it. Now, without further ado, please enjoy!

Seventeen-year-old Angelica Schuyler was considered by her school peers as a few things.

Intelligent for one. She had the brains to surpass everyone in terms of grades and the wit to render anyone who opposed her speechless. When there was a debate in any class, everyone wanted to be on her side. Those who weren't always made up some excuse to leave the classroom since nobody wanted a verbal thrashing from her. She was also elected class president three years in a row, no one daring to vote against her. There were even rumors that she had been accepted to multiple colleges early.

Another would be bold. Angelica was always one to say what was on her mind. If she one of her classmates being harassed or bullied, it didn't matter how much taller or stronger the bully was than her, she would interfere and talk them down. Usually, they would be too embarrassed to face her and would walk away. If a teacher was being unfair towards a student, she would most definitely say something. Sometimes that would land her in the principal's office, but once the situation was explained calmly and with dignity by her, she would be sent back to class without punishment.

She was definitely popular. Everybody in the school either adored her to wanted to be her. Though she kept her number of close, personal friends, to a minimum, she was friendly with the entire school population. As long as no one crossed her or did something she found to be wrong (hurting others, rudeness, etc), they would remain on her good side, a side everyone wanted to be on.

Beautiful was the last and most recognized. Her skin was a radiant rosewood color that seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. Her eyes, too dark to be brown, but not quite black, shone brilliantly and stunned anyone if looked directly into and complimented her rounded red lips nicely. Her long, curly dark brown hair reached past her shoulder blades, framing her face perfectly. Her body was curved to near-perfection; wide enough hips and a sizable chest that caused countless people to drool over her.

Yes, it seemed Angelica Schuyler had it all.

Of course, you should never judge a book by its cover. No matter how new or shiny it seems.

OoOoOo

"This is unacceptable, Angelica Schuyler!"

Angelica winced. "Daddy, please," she implored the man across from her, trying not to show how afraid she was. She hated feeling like this, hated feeling weak. But what choice did she have? "I promise, I'll do better next time! I-!"

She was cut off by a sharp slap to her face. "I don't want to hear it, Angelica," snapped Philip Schuyler. "I expect better from my daughter. I won't have a dropout running my company. Do you understand?"

Now, Angelica had no intention of running Schuyler Industries, but she would never tell her father that. "Y-Yes, Sir," she whimpered quietly, tears pricking her eyes.

Philip practically threw the crumpled test at her, landing it in front of her feet. "I'll be gone for tonight," he told her roughly. "You are not to leave this house, do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir."

He nodded in satisfaction. "Good." He turned to leave, grabbing his coat. He didn't even say goodbye as he walked through the door, leaving his eldest daughter alone in the large house.

Once he was gone, she willed herself to pick up the test that had disappointed her father so. Angelica didn't know what subject it was for, she didn't even remember taking it. All she knew was that she couldn't let this happen again. She winced as she gazed at the grade written in bright red pen on the top left corner. What had she been thinking?

A ninety-one percent was not the virtue of a Schuyler.

Sighing, she clutched the test firmly in her hands and ripped it in half. And just like that, the horrible grade was forgotten. She jumped when she felt a buzzing on her hip before realizing it was just the phone in her pocket.

Angelica pulled it out and answered it. "H-Hello?"

"Angie!" exclaimed the voice on the other end.

Despite the situation, she let a smile grace her lips. "Hi, Liza," she greeted softly. "What's up?"

"Just calling to make sure you were still coming over this weekend," replied Elizabeth Schuyler and Angelica could practically hear the smile in her voice. "Mom's planning a big surprise and she won't tell me or Peggy what it is."

She cocked an eyebrow, amusement glinting in her eyes. "Really?"

"Uh-huh!" came the enthusiastic response. "Oh, Angie, I can't wait for you to get here! I miss you so much!"

Angelica's heart clenched painfully as she swallowed the growing lump in her throat. "I-I miss you too, Eliza. I miss you, Peggy, and Mom. A lot." She struggled to keep the sadness out of her voice.

"...Are you okay, Angelica?"

She winced. Though she was the most trusting and kind person she had ever met, her sister was oblivious to others' feelings. She unintentionally drifted into her own little world, something Angelica was thankful for at times like these. Still, if her sister was picking up on her downcast feelings, she must not have been doing a good job of hiding it. So, she cleared her throat to cover it up.

"Of course, Liza, I'm fine," lied Angelica. "It just gets a little lonely around here without you guys. Now, how has your week been?" That did it. Immediately, Eliza began to ramble off into exactly what she had done the past week and she sighed in relief.

"Liza, quit hogging the phone!" a voice was heard in the background. "I wanna talk to her too!"

Eliza chuckled. "Fine, Peggy."

"Angie!" Margarita Schuyler practically shrieked into the phone.

Angelica chuckled. "Hi, Pegs."

"Angie, you'll never believe it!" Peggy proclaimed loudly. Then it was her who was rambling and Angelica loved listening to every minute of it.

It was moments like these that she was glad to be the oldest. Even though things were hard for her, she was happy to shield her sisters from her own harsh reality. Peggy would have never been able to handle it and Eliza's spirit trusting and kind would have been crushed. No, it was best for her to be the one to deal with it. Yet, she couldn't help but think of what had happened to cause the Schuyler family to be divided like this.

~OoOoOo~

Ten-year-old Peggy was crying as she hugged her knees to her chest as tight as she could. Eleven-year-old Eliza held her, trying to keep her own tears at bay. Twelve-year-old Angelica was simply standing near the staircase, her ears trained on her arguing parents. They were both screaming at each other in the living room and she was struggling to keep the brave face on for her sisters.

"How could you do this to me, Catherine!" boomed Philip thunderously, causing even Angelica to wince.

"Well, maybe if you had been home more often, I wouldn't have had to!" screeched Catherine Van Rensselaer-Schuyler back at him. "John was there for me when you weren't, Philip! He was there for us! I wouldn't be surprised if one of the girls accidentally called him 'Dad' instead of you!"

"How fucking dare you!" their father shot back. Angelica bit her lip; she had never heard him swear before. "He was my best friend and you're my wife, the mother of my children!"

There was a soft ping and Angelica assumed her mother had thrown her wedding ring onto the carpet. "Well, maybe I don't want to be your wife! You can go to-" Everyone froze as a loud crack sounded in the air. None of the girls even dared to breathe as a deafening silence filled the air. Catherine as the one to break it as she softly muttered, "You hit me."

Angelica flinched; the tone of her mother's voice terrified her. It was cold, hard. She had never heard the woman sound like that in her entire life and it sounded wrong coming from her mouth.

Philip must have realized what he did. "Kitty, I-"

Catherine cut him off, "You fucking hit me." He voice was much stronger this time, much angrier. "How fucking dare you, Philip Schuyler!"

"K-Kitty, I didn't mean it, I swear-!"

"WE'RE OVER!" exploded Catherine. "Girls, pack your stuff!" Angelica, Eliza, and Peggy didn't dare to move. They were too terrified of both of their parents at that moment to do anything.

"You can't take my kids from me!"

"You just hit me! There isn't a judge in the world who wouldn't give me full custody after that!"

"And you cheated on me!" Philip shot back. "With evidence like that, you really think you'll get full custody if the judge thinks you'll have random men around my daughters?"

Catherine grunted in frustration. "I'm calling George, then! I don't want them around you!"

"Fine!" He muttered under his breath, "You probably screwed him too."

~OoOoOo~

Their mother had stormed out of the house after that and they were picked up by a family friend, George Washington. They had stayed with them for a few months before the custody plan was settled. Catherine was given full custody of Eliza and Peggy while Philip had gotten Angelica. Angelica got to see her mother and sister's on the weekends and Eliza and Peggy got to see their sister and father during holidays.

The only solace the eldest Schuyler sister found was her school work. She strived to be the best in everything she did if only to keep her father off her back. As long as she was number one, she could be left alone.

"Angie, we have to go," said Eliza suddenly. "Mom's calling us for dinner."

Angelica chuckled. "Okay, I'll let you go. I love you guys." And she really did. They were the most important people in the world to her.

"We love you too!" chorused Peggy and Eliza. "Bye, Angie!"

"Bye, guys." As the line ended, Angelica sighed heavily. College could not come fast enough.

OoOoOo

As stated before, Angelica only had a certain number of close friends. Said friends waved her over to their usual table at lunch the next day. She smiled despite herself. "Hey, Theo, Mari," she greeted. These were the only two people in her life that she trusted completely.

Theo offered her a kind smile. "Hey, Angie." Theodosia Bartow was almost as smart as Angelica and nearly as beautiful. With her slightly lighter skin and thinner frame, she turned her fair share of heads. Her hair was a dark, golden brown and was usually braided down her back. The two of them had the best grades in their year.

Mari grinned at her. "What took so long?" she teased. "Presidential duties?" Maria Lewis was quite the stunner herself. Her skin was lighter than both Angelica's and Theodosia's and her wavy chestnut hair, which covered her right eye, flowed down her back. She was curvier than Angelica and a great deal shorter. She didn't have the grades her friends did, but Maria was smart in her own way.

Angelica smirked back. "Something like that." Actually, that was exactly what had held her up, but she would never admit that out loud.

Maria suddenly nudged the girl next to her. "Your boo is making his way over here," she pointed out.

Theodosia blushed, she too having spotted Aaron Burr. "I'll go see what he wants." She quickly got up and rushed towards her boyfriend all too eagerly.

Angelica scrunched up her nose. "I just don't understand why she's with Burr." The boy had, for lack of a better word, disgusted her. He had flirted with all three of them more than once. Just the previous summer, Theodosia was complaining about what a pain he as and suddenly they were together. It didn't make any sense.

Maria shrugged. "Maybe he finally charmed her," she suggested. "'Sides, even you have to admit that Burr's not bad. And he obviously cares about her."

She pursed her lips. "Yeah..." Neither girl uttered another word on the subject and simply ate their food. Who were they to judge their friend's choice in boyfriends?

After lunch, Angelica went about the rest of her day as per usual, blissfully unaware of the awful surprise that awaited her when she got to her house on this particular day.


	2. Alexander Hamilton

There's nothing like summer in the city.

This was what was running through sixteen year old Alexander Hamilton's head as he looked towards the horizon. He was a thin, slightly scrawny teenager with dark brown hair that went down to his ears and brown eyes with a West Indies tint to his skin. He was shorter than most teenage boys his age and has a slight stubble growing on his chin.

Back in the Caribbean, summers had been almost unbearable, the heat striking up seasonal fevers that sometimes led to death. In New York, however, things weren't nearly as bad. Sure, the heat could be more intense than it already was due to the bustle of the city, but he was always able to catch a breeze from where he was.

Where was he? On the top of his apartment building.  
Alexander glanced down; he was at least forty five feet above the ground. If I were to fall, he mused. I would most definitely die. Sighing, he moved away from the ledge. He wanted to believe that jumping wasn't the way out, wanted to believe that he could get through this.

He had survived his mother's death. He had survived his cousin's suicide. He had survived the hurricane that nearly wiped out his town. He had come all the way to New York City to do what he couldn't in Nevis. He came for a better life, a better education. There were a million things he hadn't done and he planned to do them all before his time was up.  
He wasn't ready to throw away his shot.

"HAMILTON!"

Alexander winced, turning around to face the man who made his life a living hell. "Yes, Sir?" he grit out.

John Adams advanced towards him. "What the hell do you think you're doing up here?"

He clenched his teeth, his nose twitching at the smell of alcohol on the man's breath. "Nothing, Sir." Oh, how he wanted to punch the fat bastard right in the face. But Alexander managed to restrain himself, knowing that things would only be worse for him in the end. People adored his foster father; no one would believe his immigrant foster kid over him.

Adams glanced at the ledge where he had been standing before looking back at him. He then let out a howl of laughter. "Thinking of ending it all, huh, boy? Giving up your will to live?" Alexander didn't answer, not wanting to give himself a reason to be hurt. "Can't say I blame you. What reason does a creole bastard like you have to live?"

'Shut up, the teenager pleaded in his head. 'Shut up, shut up, shut up.' He knew that if this went on for much longer, he wouldn't be able to control himself. It was absolute hell living with someone who despised him for simply being who he was.

But Adams seemed to be in a particularly nasty mood that morning. "It's no wonder why your father didn't want you."

'Shut up, shut up, shut up.'

"Your cousin probably only killed himself to get away from you."

'Shut up, shut up, shut-'

"Then again, that's what's to be expected of a whore's son."

That did it. His fist suddenly flew forward, colliding with Adams' chin. He could get over insults to his cousin, father, or even himself, but no one said anything about his mother. Of course, being the grossly underfed, scrawny teenager that he was, Alexander's punch, if you could even call it that, didn't do much damage to the portly man in front of him.

Adams' face was red. "You little son of a bitch," he hissed, rage dripping from his tongue with every word. He grabbed Alexander by his collar, dragging him back into the apartment building. The teenager didn't even try to fight it, just braced himself for what he knew was coming.

Once they were inside Adams' apartment, Alexander was thrown into a nearby wall. "Take your shirt off," he ordered. He did as he was told, stripping himself of his too-large shirt. Adams had already taken off his belt. "Turn around." Alexander obliged, facing the wall he had been thrown against. He shut his eyes as tight as he could, waiting for the impact her knew was coming.

Nothing happened for a while and Alexander thought that maybe nothing would happen. Then, it came. Hit after hit was delivered to his back, forming new cuts and opening old ones. Over and over again, each hit came, each one more painful than the last. He willed himself not to cry, not wanting to give the disgusting man the satisfaction.

"You're nothing, Hamilton," snarled Adams. "You hear me? You're nothing." He tried to ignore the voice inside his head telling him that it was true.

Alexander didn't know how many times he was hit; he had lost count after fifteen. Deciding it was time to stop this, he closed his eyes. Come on, Alex, he urged himself. Do it. He had picked up a neat trick a few years ago. Adams wasn't the first abusive foster parent he's had, so he learned how to make himself faint. With how weak his body was on a regular bases and the injuries he was receiving at the moment, he simply had to close his eyes for a moment or two.

Adams wouldn't keep hurting him if he thought he were dead, it would raise too many questions with the police. Self-induced fainting seemed to be his best option at the moment.  
So he did.

OoOoOo

It was dark in the house when Alexander woke up. His back stung like someone had doused it with acid and he could feel dried blood on his back. But he was alive. With this revelation, he forced himself up to his feet, steadying himself when the room began to spin. He hated this, hated having to take the pain knowing there was nothing he could do about it.

Well, at least not for right now.

See, Alexander had a plan. He didn't plan on staying with Adams for more than another week or so, when he would be done with school. He'd been working as a waiter since before he'd even moved in with the bastard, trying to save up enough money for college. Alexander had also been working non-stop in school, making sure that his grades were enough to catch the attention of colleges, maybe even get him a scholarship. He figured he'd find a cheap apartment to stay in while he attended classes.

That is, if he managed to survive the next week.

It was getting emancipated that was the problem; graduating would mean nothing if he wasn't considered an adult by the state. He had applied around two months ago and hadn't gotten any word back. Adams, who was currently his legal guardian, could simply stop him from going to college if he didn't get emancipated by June.

Groaning, he picked his shirt up from the ground and pulled it over his head, hissing slightly when it brushed against his cuts. Alexander clenched his jaw, trying to ignore the searing pain. He looked around, knowing that he was completely alone. Adams was usually out drinking at this time of night, so he was safe for the time being.

Alexander sighed and made his way up to his room. He didn't have much, just a small, twin-sized bed, a desk, and a closet with five shirts and three pairs of pants. The clothes and desk he had bought himself, along with the blanket and pillow on the bed. Adams didn't want to spend more money than he needed to on "a good-for-nothing bastard" such as himself.

Rolling his eyes at the thought, Alexander grabbed his journal from his desk and turned to a clean page before picking up a pencil. Writing was his escape from the world, it always had been. It was how he had gotten out of Nevis, it was how he would get out of his current hellhole as well.

Though, these writings were a little personal. There were writings in this journal he would only show to the intended recipient.

June 8, 2018

My Dearest,

I know not your name, nor your age or sex. I do know that my heart is forever pounding in anticipation for the day we do meet. I wonder about you from time to time. I wonder if your eyes shine as brightly as the night sky or if your hair is soft to the touch. I wonder if your smile alone will be able to cause me to fall apart. I wonder what you would think of me- a bastard, orphan, immigrant trying to make their mark in America. I swear, my Dearest, that if we do meet someday, I will love you until the very day I die. That is a promise and I never, ever break my promises.

Love,  
Your Alex

Alexander sighed as he signed the letter. People wouldn't know it from his "all-work-no-play" attitude, but he was a hopeless romantic. Ever since he was a child, he had dreamed of loving somebody and them returning that love to him. This dream had increased when his mother had died, the only person to ever love him unconditionally being gone from his life.

He believed in soulmates. He was convinced that when he met his, he would just know it. There would be some sort of spark or sign that would just let him know.

He was taken out of his thoughts by a ding. Taking out his phone, Alexander couldn't help the slight upturn of his lips. He talked a lot when he wasn't around his foster father, so many people stayed away from him. The two that decided to stick around quickly became his best friends.

John:  
Yo, alex! U free right rn?

He grimaced. Though John Laurens was his best friend, he didn't take the time and care Alexander did when writing a text and it got on his last nerve. Ironic, really, since English wasn't even his native tongue. Still, there wasn't anything he could do about it, so he just replied back.

Alex:  
Yeah, what's up?

John:  
Me & Herc are goin downtown. U in?

Alex:  
Sure. I'll meet you at that café off of Columbia.

John:  
Sound good. c u there

Alexander glanced at the clock. It was seven thirty, so if he left now, running, of course, he could catch the bus and be there by eight. He sighed and grabbed his old, slightly tattered coat before heading out.

OoOoOo

"Hey, look who the tomcat dragged in!"

Alexander rolled his eyes, but smiled fondly. "Hey, Herc, John!" he greeted back enthusiastically. He absolutely adored his friends. Never in his life had he ever met a couple of folks he just immediately clicked with. They didn't mind that he was talkative or hotheaded or even somewhat arrogant. They were happy to listen to whatever he had to say. He sat down at the table and ordered a hot chocolate.

John made a sound of annoyance in the back of his throat. "Have you guys done that assignment for Sharper yet?" John Laurens was a thin young man even shorter than Alexander. He had curly brown hair that was usually tied into a bun and freckles dotted all over every part of his body.

Hercules shrugged. "I started it a couple of days ago," he answered. Hercules Mulligan was a rather burly young man, especially compared to that of his two small friends. He was very well-built and always wore a piece of cloth tied around his head. "Alex?"

Alexander took a sip of his drink. "I finished that a long time ago," he told them. They both shared a knowing smirk. "What?"

John pursed his lips. "Nothing."

He once again rolled his eyes. They both knew how hard he worked, but he never told them exactly why. He supposed his friends thought he was simply just an overachiever. Well, part of that was true, but it wasn't the whole story. Then again, it wasn't like he ever told them the whole story. All they knew was that he was an orphan from an island in the Caribbean.

So, Alexander decided to change the subject. "We have a test for Hayler on Monday," he reminded them.

His freckled friend groaned. "Damn it, I forgot."

"Well-"

But Hercules was cut off by a loud bang. Almost immediately panic erupted around them. People were suddenly screaming and everything was in chaos. Alexander didn't know what to do.

He also didn't know that going out on that particular night was a mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so the one part I really liked about this chapter was Hamilton thinking "Shut up" over and over again in his head and then decking Adams in the face. I don't know, I just feel like that was the least OOC thing about him. And the letter to his "soulmate." If anyone couldn't tell, that was inspired by one of his letters to Laurens. Anyway, please comment!


	3. Thomas Jefferson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to chapter three everyone! I hope you enjoy it! And to anyone confused, Angelica and Thomas are eighteen while Alexander's seventeen (he skipped a year). Also, it's early June instead of mid May like I had originally planned it. It seemed to fit much better. Now, please enjoy the chapter!

Eighteen-year-old Thomas Jefferson was undeniably spoiled rotten.

He had a mother and father who doted on him and gave him everything he ever wanted. He went to one of the best schools in the area, always had the "latest and greatest" of anything and everything, and had never had to work a day in his life despite technically being an adult. When people thought of Thomas Jefferson, they thought of an insufferable, cocky, immature player who had it all and had never struggled a day in his life.

They were wrong.

In reality, almost every waking day was a struggle for him. People who knew Thomas knew that he had a big personality. He was outspoken, flirtatious, and liked to mess with people. He would admit to being all of these things, yes, but there was more to him than that. A lot more.

Jefferson examined himself in the mirror. He was slightly above average in height and had a bit of muscle on him, though he wasn't buff by any means. He wore his ebony hair in a curly afro, never bothering to do anything with it aside from the occasional comb-through and his eyes were a dark chestnut color. He was fairly attractive in his own opinion.

He jumped when his phone when off; he'd been so lost in his thoughts that he had been unaware of his surroundings. His hands trembled slightly as he reached over to his desk to check it.

Martha:  
Jefferson, where the hell are you?

Thomas flinched, feeling his heartrate pick up. He had forgotten all about the date he was supposed to be taking his girlfriend on this evening. He could practically feel the rage emitting off his phone. Not wanting to piss her off any further, he quickly replied to the text.

Thomas:  
I'm sorry! I'll be there soon. Promise!

He hurried to get himself ready, throwing on the dress shirt and pants he knew she liked the best. Thomas dosed himself in his favorite cologne as well, hoping to fall back into her good graces. His girlfriend was not the most pleasant person to be around when she was angry. He had learned that over the two (very long) years they had been together.

OoOoOo

Thomas sighed when he finally got to her house; it had only taken a little under fifteen minutes, so she shouldn't be too angry. He didn't even have to knock as the door swung open upon his arrival and he was yanked inside. He braced himself for the worst. "Darlin', look, I know your mad-"

Martha Wayles laughed coldly at that, shutting him up. "Mad?" she repeated, stepping closer to him, a somewhat wild look in her eyes. "Mad?" Her fist clenched at her side. "Mad can not begin to describe how angry I am with you, Thomas Jefferson!" She grabbed his collar, jerking him closer to her. "Do you know what time I scheduled this date?" She shook him a little. "Do you?"

"S-Six!" answered Thomas quickly, cursing himself for stuttering. He shouldn't be afraid of his girlfriend. He shouldn't be afraid of someone who loved him. Yet, here he was.

"And what time are you here?"

He glanced at the clock hung up on the wall. "Six thirty, darlin'." He could see why she was upset with him. Being late for a date in and of itself was unacceptable. He had just been so caught up with his school work that it slipped his mind. So he explained that to her.

She gripped his shirt harder, her nails slightly scratching his skin through the fabric. "Do I need to remind you what happened the last time you were late to a date?" she seethed.

How could he forget?

It had all started with a stunningly beautiful girl who went by the name of "Sally Hemings" who, coincidentally, happened to be Martha's half-sister. She had always been the overshadowed child; despised by Mrs. Wayles as a reminder of her husband's mistress and looked down upon by her father and sister. She'd only been living with the family for a year and a half since her mother died.

One night, he had found her crying on a nearby park bench on his way to meet Martha for a date. She had spilled everything to him and, well, one thing led to another. They had been talking and before they knew it they were kissing. The two had ended up in bed together only to be caught by Martha herself.

Martha had been absolutely furious with the both of them. She had taken turns screaming herself raw at both Thomas and Sally, calling them both awful names. She had even gone as far as to hit her sister before he intervened. Well, that turned her onto him and she had taken a swing at him as well. She had them stormed out, not speaking to either of them for weeks.

Thomas had begged for her to take him back. He had been at her door practically every night groveling for forgiveness. She had finally relented and that's when everything had gone to hell. She was no longer the sweet girl he had known. That Martha was gone. In her place stood a vindictive, cruel woman. One he didn't intend on staying with for much longer.

But for now, Thomas played her games. "Course not, darlin'. I'm sorry."

She glared up at him a bit longer before finally letting go. "Make sure it doesn't happen again," she warned.

"It won't." Especially if there wasn't a date to be late for.

"I love you, Tommy."

"I love you too."

Lies.

OoOoOo

"I still do not understand why you are with her, mon amie."

Thomas rolled his eyes at his cousin. "Gil, you know why." Actually, he himself didn't know why he was still with her. Though, the rational part of his brain deduced that it would be better to do it after graduation. That way, they'd both be away at college and apart from each other so he wouldn't have to see her face. Though, he knew that wasn't the true reason, he liked to think it was.

"Actually we don't," chimed James Madison. He was a few inches short of Thomas with buzzed hair and was one of his very best friends as well as being his more sensible half. "She treats you like dirt, Thomas."

Lafayette nodded in agreement. "She is, how you say, 'toxic,' no?" Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette was his cousin and nearly identical to himself. The only thing that set the two apart was that Lafayette usually wore his hair up.

He sighed. "It's complicated." That was what he always told them whenever they brought the subject up. No one outside of the three involved knew about his little fling with Sally and he intended to keep it that way. It took a lot for Lafayette to be upset with someone, but when he was it was never a good thing for anyone. And his cousin couldn't stand cheaters.

James rolled his eyes. "You say that all the time," he muttered.

Thomas bristled. "Well, it's the truth," he stated defensively.

Lafayette put a hand on his shoulder. "Easy, mon amie," he soothed in a way only he could. "We did not mean any offense by it. It's just..."

"Just what, Gil?" That had come out a lot harsher than he meant it too.

"She has gotten rather physical lately, has she not?"

Thomas clenched his jaw, knowing that it was true but not wanting to admit that he let a girl abuse him on a daily basis. "Come on, guys, she's just a girl," he reasoned. "They can't do anyone any harm." 'Yes the hell they can,' an annoying voice in his head reminded him as the memory of her razor-like nails digging into his skin came to mind.

James chuckled deeply. "Whatever you say, Thomas." Lafayette, however, still regarded him with concern.

'Damn him and his observations.'

OoOoOo

The next day after school, Thomas was having a rather heated argument with Martha. "I'm telling you, I haven't talked to Sally since that night," he reiterated for what felt like the tenth time. Why couldn't she understand that he would never to that to her again? Why was it that he always the bad guy in whatever situation they were in?

"I call bullshit," hissed Martha. "She had this dreamy look in her eyes yesterday, around the time you got back from 'seeing you friends.' What do you think I am? An idiot?"

"Darlin', you can ask Gil and James, I was with them yesterday the times I told you I was." He was getting frustrated with her now. What he had with Sally had been a slip-up. He had simply felt bad for the girl and had been upset with Martha for treating her like that. It had been a spur of the moment thing. Was one mistake doomed to haunt him for the rest of his life?

She rolled her eyes. "Please, those friends of yours will have your back until the end." 'Wouldn't you?' was what he wanted to ask, but he kept his mouth shut. "I would never believe a anything that comes out of their mouths about you."

"It's the goddamn truth!" Thomas nearly shouted.

"Don't you yell at me, I'm the only one who gets to be upset!" Martha shot back.

He through his hands up in the air. "I give up! I can never please you, can I? Nothing I say or do makes anything between us better! Why do I even bother trying? You just hear what you want to hear! You know what? You're nothing but a-"

The crack that filled the air was deafening.

Martha's eyes were wide as she stared at her own extended hand. "T-Thomas," she stuttered. "I-I-"

Thomas closed his eyes before nodding, trying to ignore his stinging cheek as he repositioned his head. "Just what I thought." His friends were right, enough was enough. He was so done with this woman. The love had been long gone, resentment and abuse in its place. It was time to end this.

She looked confused. "What?"

He chuckled. "You know, I was going to wait until graduation," he began. "but for what? Why would I put myself through another week of this?" His gaze hardened. "We're done, Martha Wayles."

Martha stared on and shock for a moment before her nostrils flared and her eyes narrowed. "You think you can break up with me?" She yanked on his collar just as she had the other night. "You break up with me and I'll make you're life hell." He saw something in her that he had never seen before and he'd be lying if he said it didn't scare him.

"I'd like to see you try."

Martha's nails scratched against his chest once again. "I'll say you tried to rape me," she threatened.

Now it was his turn to have wide eyes as he gaped at her. "You wouldn't." She had done some bad things to him in the past, but even she wouldn't go that far. She couldn't, she had morals. Didn't she?

"I think we both know I would." The coldness in her tone was enough to send shivers up her spine.

Thomas tried his best to stand firmly. "No one will believe you." He hoped he was calling her bluff. "I-It's your word against mine."

"Are you willing to take that risk?"

He glanced away before looking back to her. "Whatever happened to you?" he has to ask. The Martha he had loved would never do this no matter how angry with him she had been.

Martha leaned in close. "You made me like this," she claimed. With that, she let him go and sauntered away from him. He watched her retreating form, his heart heavy with her words.

That one sentence had stung more than any slap ever would. Crestfallen, he stalked all the way home, not knowing what he was going to do. How was he going to get himself out of this mess?

Luckily for him, he had someone in his corner. That someone was lurking in the shadows with revenge on their minds. Someone who would be his saving grace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of trouble with this chapter for some reason. It shows a bit, doesn't it? It was more or less a rush job. It took a lot of thinking though to find someone in Thomas' life that would abuse him as such. I didn't want to use Martha, but I didn't want it to be a man for him. I don't know why, but it didn't feel right. I also didn't want it to be too similar to Angelica or Alexander's stories. Anyways, I hope you liked it. Please comment!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Welcome to chapter four! Just to warn you, I'm shit at writing emotional scenes, so I apologize in advance. Now, ON WITH THE FIC!

As soon as Angelica entered her house that day, she knew something was wrong.

It was deadly quiet when she arrived. It usually was, but there was an eeriness to it that was sending all kinds of warning signs through her head. Ordinarily, her father was standing there waiting for her, a look of a mix of disappointment and disgust that was permanently etched on his face as she braced herself for her inevitable punishments. There was none of that; the den simply looked empty.

Taking a chance, Angelica softly called out, "Daddy?" There was no answer, furthering her suspicion.

She heard slight shuffling coming from the direction of the kitchen, so she slowly made her way to that area. "Daddy?" she tried again. "Are you in here?" As she entered the kitchen, she knew she was in trouble.

Philip Schuyler was sitting at the table, his back facing her. The room was nearly pitch-black, though she could barely make out the silhouette of a bottle of whiskey. "Angelica, come here," he beckoned without looking at her.

Angelica tentatively moved forward, making sure to keep a good distance between them. "Have I done something wrong, Daddy?" she asked quietly.

But her father began to speak as if he hadn't heard her, "I was going through your room today, Angelica, when I came across something interesting." His tone was completely monotone, revealing nothing of what was running through his head.

She went rigid, but kept her face neutral. "And what, exactly, did you find, Sir?" she questioned. Inwardly, she was praying to God that he hadn't found what she thought he found. If he did, she was going to be in so much trouble.

Suddenly, her father slammed a stack of papers on the table, making her jump. "This," he hissed, whirling around to face her. "Do you mind explaining this to me, Angelica?"

Angelica glanced down and swallowed nervously. There, sitting on the table, was her acceptance letter to Columbia, a fake ID, and various other things someone living a double life would need. "I-" She was cut off by her father backhanding her in the face, causing her to fall to the floor with a thud and banging her head against the leg of a chair.

Philip gripped her arm before yanking her upwards. "Insolent child, you were planning to run away, weren't you?" he seethed, slightly twisting the appendage he was holding.

Angelica cried out, tears pricking her eyes. "No!" she wailed. "I-I swear, Daddy, I-!"

He twisted it further. "Don't lie to me, Angelica Schuyler. What did I tell you at the beginning of the year?"

She blinked back her tears, trying to think of what he possibly could have said to her. "T-That I was going t-to Buffalo!" she recalled. It had been one of the best colleges for running a business in New York City and her father had a friend there who would "keep an eye on her." That alone left a bad taste in her mouth at the thought of going there. There was also the fact that Columbia had been her dream college since she was six.

"That's right. You were trying to deceive me."

Angelica shook her head. "I wasn't!" she cried. "I was going to talk to you about it, I promise!" Alright, that wasn't the full truth. In fact, she had planned on sending her father a letter after she arrived to Columbia. She had figured that her father's ire would go down over time and maybe - just maybe - they could rebuild their fractured relationship. Because as much as he hurt and degraded her, he was still her father.

Philip flung her into the wall, her left shoulder colliding with it. "You're just like your mother," he snarled. "Nothing but a lying, conniving bitch! You're a disgrace!"

She could see black spots in front of her eyes and tried to shake herself out of it. She was strong, she could take it. It was what she deserved for planning behind his back, after all. She had just been so tired of being tossed around like a rag doll. Was that so wrong? Apparently so, because her father landed another slap to her other cheek.

"Ungrateful brat!" he spat at her. "You have the best education in the city, nicest clothes money can buy, and a secured future! I've given you everything and this is how you repay me?"

Angelica was now sobbing pathetically. "Daddy, I'm sorry! Please, forgive me!" She hated being reduced to having to beg. Everyone at school knew her as tough-as-nails Angelica Schuyler. She had never dared to let anyone see her cry and has never shown a shred of weakness. Why was it so hard to do that here in front of her father?

She didn't even realize she had slid to the floor until there was a swift kick to her ribs. "I can't believe I raised such a pathetic excuse of a Schuyler. You're nothing, Angelica." He stepped on her arm with his large boot, causing her to shriek in pain. "Nothing." With that, he walked away.

Once she was sure he was gone, Angelica leaned up against the wall, her face buried in her hands as she cried. She cried more than she'd ever cried before. Partly from pain, partly from the look she had seen in her father's eyes. It had shown nothing but absolute disgust, as if she wasn't even his daughter. As if she were less than human. That thought alone made her cry harder.

Angelica soon attempted to stand by using the wall for support, only to recoil it quickly as she felt pain shoot up through her arm. The pain was so great, in fact, that she had to bite her lip to keep from screaming. "It's probably broken," she assumed to herself. "Damn it." She figured it must have happened when her father stepped on it. She had to admit, her bones had never been broken after a night like this before. Merely sprained or dislocated. I must have really pissed him off, she mused. Go figure.

She couldn't leave it like this. A broken arm would be too noticeable and would only get worse over time. This needed to be dealt with, but she couldn't go to a hospital. That would arouse suspicion and that was the last thing she needed. She could think of only one thing to do. Sighing, Angelica grabbed her phone and dialed a number she knew by heart.

"Hello?" came a familiar voice.

Though the circumstances were dire, it made her feel a little better to hear it. "Theo, it's me," she rasped, her throat aching. Most presumably from crying and screaming so much.

"Hey, Ange! What's up? Why is your voice so quiet?"

Angelica waved her question off as she heard a light thump, meaning that her father was asleep. "Never mind that. Theo, listen, do you know how to reset a broken arm?"  
OoOoOo

An hour and a half later, Angelica was sitting on Theodosia's bed, her arm still throbbing from when the other girl reset it. It had been excruciatingly painful, even more painful then the actual process of it getting broken in the first place. Still, there was a kind of relief to it that made her relax. Though, she was slightly fidgeting under her friend's smoldering gaze. "I know you're going to ask, so do it already."

"How the actual hell did your arm break?"

Angelica winced; Theodosia almost never swore. Somehow, this made her feel worse than she already did. "I..." she trialed off, not knowing what to say. This was her best friend, yet she couldn't trust her with her darkest secret. How sad.

Theodosia's face softened as she sat on the bed next to her. "Hey," she said softly, gently touching her shoulder. Thankfully, it wasn't the one that had hit the wall. "Whatever it is, I promise I'm here for you. You're my best friend, Ange."

Fuck it.

"My dad broke my arm," blurted Angelica. Suddenly, she felt as if a weight was being lifted from her heart and it was getting much easier to breathe now. "I- he's been hurting me for years, Theo. And I don't..." Tears began to stream down her face without her consent. "I just don't know what to do."

Her friend looked as if she were about to cry as well. "Your dad's been... hurting you?" She spoke these words as if she couldn't wrap her head around the idea. "For how long?"

"Since a few months after he and Mom divorced," revealed Angelica quietly. "A-At first, he started putting all this pressure on me to be the best. Then, he began to get violent. He even started drinking."

Theodosia looked absolutely heartbroken. "Why didn't you tell us?" she asked.

"I-I couldn't," Angelica answered. "He said that if I ever told you or Mari, he'd ruin your lives. That partnership he's working on with your dad's business? He threatened to pull out. I know how much of a breakthrough it was for your family and I know how much you would be affected. And he said that he'd make sure that Maria's dad would be fired and never get a job in New York City."

"Then why not the police?" questioned the girl next to her.

She scoffed. "You kidding? My dad has this entire city in his back pocket. Why do you think my doctor hasn't called child services? Why do you think our teachers have never brought it up? He's paying everyone off."

"But that's insane!" protested Theodosia, standing to her feet. "You mean that every adult has seen you suffering and no one has said a word because your dad has money?"

Angelica shrugged. "Pretty much."

"What about your mom then? She's had to have noticed something!"

She rolled her eyes at the thought. "Doubt it. Mom's pretty oblivious when it comes to me. Even if she did, she couldn't afford to bring my dad to court again. All her money is alimony and child support from him."

Theodosia visibly deflated, finally seeing why she had no other options. "Then why have you come to me now?"

Angelica sighed. "For one, I have no idea how to reset a broken bone. I remembered that you took that medical college course last summer, so I hoped that you did. Another, well... I came to say goodbye."

Theodosia blinked. "Goodbye?" she repeated. "You're leaving?"

She nodded, gesturing to the bag slung around her shoulder. "I made a plan a few years back that I'd escape. I have a fake ID and everything. I even finished up all my credits and got into the college of my choice. He wanted me to go to Buffalo, but I'm going to Columbia. I put a down payment on a little apartment just a little off campus that I should be able to afford with the money I transferred from my trust fund."

"Will I ever see you again?"

Angelica winced, trying to look away from those sad eyes of hers. "Of course," she assured, taking out a piece of paper and handing it to her friend. "This is gonna be my new number. Only give it to Mari and you guys can call me whenever you'd like. Below it is my address, come visit me, okay?"

Theodosia's lips formed a thin line. "What about Peggy and Eliza?"

Angelica glanced away guiltily. "Please don't tell them anything," she begged. "They love our father, they don't need to know what happened to me. Just tell them you have no idea where I went."

Theodosia hesitated before nodding. "Alright," she agreed. "Just... stay alive, okay?"

Angelica managed to smile. "Deal."

Theodosia looked like she wanted to say something more, but seemed to decide against it before pulling her friend in for a hug. "I'm gonna miss you," she whispered.

"I'm gonna miss you too," Angelica whispered back. She pulled away, wiping at her eyes. "Don't make me cry anymore, Theo. My eyes are stinging." She laughed at her own poor attempt at humor. She'd been crying too much today, she wanted to laugh for one.

Theodosia rolled her eyes, but smiled. "You'd better get out of here, you dork."

Angelica waved, making her way towards the window she had come in. It had been difficult climbing the vine growing up the side of the house, but she had managed it. "See ya. Don't forget to explain everything to Mari and tell her good bye for me."

Theodosia waved back. "I won't." And like a flame that flickers out too soon, Angelica Schuyler was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That ending was so rushed, it's not even funny. This is what happens when I try to write 200 words in one sitting. Anyway, please review!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... here's chapter three, I guess. Please enjoy.

The first thing Alexander saw when he woke up was white.

The thought that immediately came to his mind wasn't exactly standard. He didn't think, Am I dead? or Heaven wasn't what I was expecting. No, these were all common cliches that were normally found in books or movies. And let the record show that Alexander Hamilton was not one for cliches. In fact, there was nothing he couldn't stand more (aside from his father, Adams, and, well, many things. But that wasn't the point).

No, Alexander's first thought was the classic, What the hell happened?

He racked his brain, trying to search for his most recent memories. Then, it all came back to him. The cafe, the large bang, his friends. He suddenly jolted up. "John!" he called, trying to get up from the bed he was laying on. "Herc!" He could now see that he must be in a hospital. Which made sense, since her felt pain shoot through his right shoulder.

Well, that explained a few things.

There must have been a shooting in the cafe and a bullet must have gotten him. That explained the bang her heard and why It couldn't have been that serious seeing as though he was still alive, but Alexander wasn't a doctor, so there was no way to know for sure.

Suddenly, the door door opened. Alexander turned his head and sighed in relief. There stood Hercules and though his face was grim, he looked alive and well. Hercules had a similar expression on his face. "Alex, you're awake," he stated in slight disbelief.

He gave his friend a wry grin. "I hadn't noticed," he remarked, hoping to lighten the mood a bit. It didn't seem to work. "Herc, what happened?"

Hercules sighed, rubbing his temples. "Do you remember being at the cafe before you black out?" he asked. At Alexander's nod, he continued, "Well, that was a couple of days ago. There was a shooting. You were the first one to be shot, I think. Then John after you. I- there had been a few cops eating there, so the guy was shot before he could get anyone else."

Alex went rigid. "Is Laurens okay?" he asked. When he didn't receive an answer, he asked louder, "Hercules, is John okay?"

The burly man shut his his momentarily before reopening them. "He's in critical condition," he revealed softly. "The doctors... they don't think he's gonna make it."

As those words were spoken, Alexander's heart plummeted into his stomach.

OoOoOo

As soon as the doctors allowed him to, Alexander practically ran to John's room. His freckled friend was stable for the moment, but no one knew how long that would last. He was awake, however, so that had to be a good sign right? Alex braced himself before knocking. "Come in," came the weak reply. So, he did. As soon as he saw his friend, he wanted to hide in the darkest corner of the world.

John was deathly pale and looked about twice as small as he normally did. Though, that didn't keep the wide smile off his face when he saw Alexander. "Hamilton," he greeted.

Alex managed a weak smile. "Hey, Laurens. How you holding up?"

Somehow, John managed to shrug. "Alright," he answered. "Though, I'm feeling a little..." He paused for dramatic effect. "Holey."

He grimaced, but couldn't help the smile on his face. John Laurens could really make the best out of everything. "Really, John?" he asked incredulously. "Holey?"

"Those'll be my famous last words."

Instantly, Alexander's stomach clenched. "Don't say that," he snapped. "You're not going to die." He lost his mother, cousin, and most of his town to death, he refused to lose his best friend too. John wouldn't die, he couldn't.

"Alexander," chided John softly. "We both know that's not true." He gestured to himself. "I mean, look at me."

"Stop!" Alex snapped again. "John, you're not dying!"

The freckled boy chuckled weakly. "Alexander, you're the closest friend I've got," he whispered, slowly reaching out and taking his friend's hand.

"John, you can't give up!" insisted Alexander, tears finally pricking his eyes as the threat of his best friend dying made itself more relevant. "You... You can't just throw away your shot!"

John's breath was becoming labored as his chest heaved with what seemed to be difficulty. "Alex, do me a favor," he requested.

"Anything, John," Alexander swore.

"Promise me that you'll find someone who loves you as much as I do."

And with that, his heart monitor flat-lined.

OoOoOo

Hours later, Alexander was sitting alone in his hospital room, every light off. The only source of light he had was the little bit creeping in from behind the curtain. No matter how many times the scene from earlier replayed in his head, he just couldn't believe it.

John wasn't gone, he couldn't be. It felt like only hours ago that they were hanging out with Hercules. Now they would never be able to again. He'd never see his many freckles or his curly hair or his bright smile ever again. He'd never get to tease him about his messy handwriting or receive a playful jab about how he never shut up. He was gone and he was never coming back.

There was a knock at the door.

This confused Alexander as he stood up. Who could that be? He had sent Hercules away hours ago and lord knew Adams wouldn't see him. "Come in," he called, turning on a light.

In walked a man who seemed larger than life itself. He was broad-shouldered, extremely tall, and dressed to near-perfection. "Hello, Alexander," he greeted softly. "Do you know who I am?"

"No."

The man didn't seem put-off by his curt tone. "My name is George Washington," he announced. "Did your doctor talk to you about the charges against your foster father, John Adams?"

Alexander's eyes widened. "Charges?" he parroted. "What charges?"

Washington nodded, probably figuring out that the doctors hadn't told him crap. "Based on the injuries you've sustained, your doctor came to the conclusion that Adams has been hurting you physically and called child services. You've been placed under my care while police investigate."

Well, that was unexpected.

Alexander blinked. "And all this happened in two days?"

Washington laughed. "Adults aren't as incompetent as you may think, son."

His eyes narrowed. "Don't call me son," he snapped harshly.

Somehow, this still didn't put Washington off. "Do you have anything you need to get from your house?"

Alexander nodded. "A few things," he answered. Very few, he added in his head.

"Then let's go."

OoOoOo

Alexander had been living with the Washington's for about a week now and he didn't know what to feel. Washington's wife, Martha, was a kind woman. She made sure he ate enough everyday and had the nurturing nature that his mother had when she was alive. He also had a foster brother who went by the name of Aaron Burr. He didn't know what to make of Burr yet. He seemed to be the exact opposite of himself; quiet, reserved, kept his opinions to himself.

What was the deal with that?

Washington was the one he was on-guard about. He kept expecting the man to yell at him for talking back, to hit him for messing up. But it never came. He didn't even get mad when he dropped a plate while being so lost in his thoughts. He simply helped to clean it up.

Still, Alexander didn't let his walls down for a second. He didn't have time to, anyway. He worked as hard as he could to make the best grades, making it next to impossible for colleges not to notice him.

OoOoOo

"Alexander!" called Martha one Saturday afternoon. "There's a letter for you!"

He practically sprinted down the stairs. "Who's it from?" he demanded, gazing at the sizable envelope. If it was what he thought it was, his entire future was looking nothing but bright.

Martha grinned at him. "Read and find out," she answered cryptically, handing it to him.

Alexander took the envelope from her and ripped it open, taking out the letter. His eyes scanned the page and he couldn't help the large, silly grin that crept onto his face.

He was in.

Columbia University had accepted him on a full scholarship. Tuition, his dorm, everything was free. The Washington's had assured him that they would pay for his college education even if he hadn't gotten the scholarship, but it felt better this way. He had worked through on his own. He hadn't needed help from anyone.

"Congratulations, Alexander."

Alex jumped, whirling around to face Burr. Holy Jesus! Apparently, Burr had a way of sneaking up on people without being heard. "Thanks, Aaron," he managed, despite his racing heart. Who the hell crept in the shadows like that? The boy was like a ghost! "You too. Princeton and all."

Aaron smiled, that creepy, reveal-nothing, smile. "Thank you."

God, this guy would be the death of him.

OoOoOo

So, it turned out that the Washington's had a thing for family bonding time.

It was corny to be completely honest. Some Fridays they would all gather in the living room for a "movie night," as they called it. Sometimes, it wouldn't even be a movie for teenagers. The selection ranged from Disney to Dreamworks to everything in between. He couldn't help but pay attention sometimes. Even he had to admit, Coco was a kick-ass movie.

In other words, Alexander unintentionally revealed that he'd never been to Disney World. It didn't take long for the Washington's to immediately schedule a time for all four of them to go.

This was a strange experience for him. Even when he was with his mother - a woman who had loved him until her dying breath - he had never received so much before. With his mother and cousin on Nevis, he struggled for something as simple as food. With Adams, he was lucky if the bastard threw him a cereal bar every other week or so.

The change scared him to be completely honest. Sometimes, he lied awake at night, thinking that the Washington's were luring him into a false sense of security. Of course, the idea was ludicrous. The Washington's weren't trying to trap him. They were just decent people who happened to have a lot of money. Not everyone wanted to make his life miserable.

He wasn't that important.

OoOoOo

Alexander glanced at the journal that had laid untouched on his new desk. With John gone, how could he bare to write in it? Part of him had assumed that the freckled boy had been his soulmate, but now he wasn't sure. How could they be soulmates if they had never gotten time to be together? He sighed, fingers grazing the tattered pages before he willed himself to pick it up and begin to write.

My Dearest,

I'm afraid that with each passing day, I'm losing more faith in our meeting. Every day, agony consumes me and I don't think I want you to see this dark side of me. More so, I feel like even if you and I were to meet, we wouldn't "click" like soulmates are supposed to. Of course, love at first sight is nothing but a fantasy, but shouldn't we at least like each other? What if we don't? I solemnly admit this, but I'm terrified if that were to be the case.

Your love,  
Alexander

The boy shook his head, snapping the journal shut and setting his pencil next to it. At this point, finding his soulmate was seeming more and more like wishful thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is why my stories never get finished, goddammit! *sigh* I'm much better at one-shots, in my opinion. Anyway, please review.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW, it's been almost two months. Sorry about that guys, I kind of forgot about this story. Whoops. Uh, please enjoy.

Thomas had decided that he wasn't going to attend college. Not yet, at least.

He didn't dare tell Martha that, obviously; she still thought that they were going to the University of Virginia. He figured it would be better to wait at least a year before attending college; she would just follow him wherever he went. If he went to college, he would never escape her. No, what he needed to do was leave Virginia for a while. Maybe go up north. She would never think to look for him in a place like Rhode Island, right? Then again, she would never find him in a place as populated as New York.

Of course, France was always an option.

He sighed, running his hand through his fluffy hair. He had no idea how to break the news to his mother and father. He knew that his father was hoping that he would take over the family business, but that just wasn't for him. What he really wanted to do was work in politics, that would be an adventure.

Then again, that wouldn't be possible if he didn't go to college.

Thomas growled in frustration; Martha was ruining everything for him. Even if he left, what was to stop her from telling anybody that he attempted to force himself onto her? There went his reputation. No college would take him if something like that got out.

He had no idea what to do.

OoOoOo

Thomas rolled his eyes as Martha chatted with one of her friends by her locker, holding his arm in a death grip. He had no idea why girls felt the need to talk so much about other people. Of course, he had spread his fair share of rumors, but he didn't spend hours talking about whether someone's hair was a weave or not. That was just ridiculous. Why couldn't they talk about more important stuff like finals? Or the next football season?

Then again, he figured that those were subjected to opinion.

"Mon amie."

Saved by the Frenchman. Thomas turned to his cousin. "What's up, Gil?"

Lafayette looked nervous, though it was clear he was trying not to show it. "James and I require your assistance," he told him. He glanced subtly at Martha. "It's urgent. Can you help?"

He silently thanked whatever god was looking out for him before prying his girlfriend's fingers off her. "Yeah, sure."

Martha was seething. "Thomas," she hissed through her teeth, plastering a fake smile on for her friend. "I need you here with me. Where are you going?"

Thomas smirked and shrugged, knowing that she wouldn't be able to do something in front of her friend or Lafayette. "Sorry, darlin'." He wasn't sorry at all and vaguely wondered if she knew that. She probably did. "Family comes first. Lead the way, Gil."

OoOoOo

Lafayette led him to a storage closet where James and Sally of all people were waiting for them. "What is going on here?" he demanded. He definitely hadn't expected to see his girlfriends sister among them. He had been telling the truth when he had said that he hadn't talked to the girl since that night.

James slowly approached him. "Thomas, we know," he revealed carefully.

Thomas was sure his heart stopped. "Know what?" he asked, deciding to play dumb.

"We know what my bitch of a sister had been doing to you," Sally finally spoke up. She was different from the fragile girl he had consoled that night. She was hardened, more determined. "And we're going to stop it."

He raised an eyebrow. "And how do you propose we do that, darlin'?"

Sally held up a recorder and pressed the play button. 'We're done, Martha Wayles,' it played back in his own voice. She pressed pause.

Thomas recognized it as the attempt at breaking up he had initiated between himself and Martha. "How did you get that?" he asked softly.

She actually blushed a bit. "I recorded it when I saw you two arguing," she admitted. "Right after she, you know..." She trailed off, probably hoping that he would get what she meant.

He nodded. "So... what exactly was your plan?" he inquired.

"Sally showed us this a few days ago," James told him. "We've been coming up with a place ever since."

Lafayette gave a nod. "Yes, but we needed to make sure you were onboard," he added. He looked pointedly at his cousin. "Are you?"

"That depends," replied Thomas. "What's the plan."

"We're going to play it over the school intercom during lunch," Sally informed him. "and show everyone exactly who Martha Wayles really is."

OoOoOo

Needless to say, Thomas was completely onboard. He waited patiently at lunchtime, sitting next to Martha as he was always forced to everyday. Hopefully, this would be the last time. He casually ate his macaroni and cheese as he braced himself for the shitstorm that was bound to come once that recording was played for everyone to hear.

Then, it came.

'We're done, Martha Wayles.'

It seemed as if everyone stopped. Slowly but surely, everyone's heads turned to look at his, immediately recognizing his voice. He, in turn, attempted to look as flabbergasted as the rest of them. Next to him, Martha looked absolutely terrified. She knew exactly what was coming.

Good.

'You think you can break up with me? came her response. You break up with me and I'll make your life hell.'

Everyone was staring at her now, none of them quite believing that sweet Martha Wayles had actually said that. Then again, who could deny it with the evidence being played over the intercom.

'I'd like to see you try.'

'I'll say you tried to rape me.'

There was a collective gasp among the students. Now, what happened to some of them was their business and he made a point to stay out of matters such as that, but it was no secret that some of the students had been sexually assaulted. Obviously, it wasn't something to be taken and tossed around as Martha had. It was serious and a vast majority of the cafeteria was glaring daggers at the girl.

He might have felt bad if she hadn't put him through hell for months.

'You wouldn't.'

'I think we both know I would.'

'No one will believe you. I-It's your word against mine.'

'Are you willing to take that risk?'

It was dead silent in the cafeteria as the recording ended. No one said a word. Martha's face was red - from anger or embarrassment, he couldn't tell - and at this point nearly every single student was glaring at her. Even some of the teachers were looking at her with disdain. Her own friends looked horrified to even be associated with her.

And to Thomas, that was the best revenge.

OoOoOo

Martha had ended up being expelled from school for abuse of a fellow student and false accusations. Which didn't really matter since it was almost the end of the school year anyway, but it brought him some satisfaction that she was paying for what she'd done to him. Of course, if the roles had been reversed, he was sure that he would have been arrested, but hey. This was the best he could get and he was more than willing to take it.

When asked about the situation, Thomas would merely smile and respond, "My hands were tied. Sometimes, you have to let your friends take over."

He still stood by his decision to take a year off. He wanted to make sure that Martha couldn't follow him wherever he went. He might have sounded paranoid, but she had clearly gone off the deep end. He didn't know what she was capable of.

He had also decided that he was going to leave Virginia. There wasn't much left for him and though he would always love it, he had to leave sometime. Maybe he would go to college up north. That could be fun.

When he had expressed this to his parents, they hadn't been as mad as he thought. Sure, they were a bit bemused that he wasn't going to run the family business, but they supported him no matter what. It also helped that Lafayette was more than willing to run the business. They had even bought him a plane ticket for New York.

New York. Manhattan to be exact. That was where he had chosen to go. He had been there before, but never for more than a few weeks at a time. He wanted to actually live in the big city, to see what it was like compared to living in Virginia. It would be an adventure.

He was ready to face whatever was awaiting him in NYC.

OoOoOo

His parents had paid for everything.

He, of course, didn't mind. He was more than glad to let his folks take care of all his expenses. Still, that didn't mean he wasn't going to work. He knew it wouldn't do him any good to sit around doing nothing all day. No, he would start to get lazy, well, lazier. He couldn't let that happen if he was going to attend college the next year.

So, he got a job as a waiter.

It was a small café around the corner from his new apartment. Nothing too extravagant, but the coffee was definitely well made. On his first day, his boss deemed that he needed training. He didn't know how hard it could be to give people their food, but he figured that it wasn't his place to question since he was the one who needed the job.

"I'll get Schuyler right on it," he had said. The name sounded vaguely familiar, though he couldn't place his finger on it. "Wait here while I go get her."

After a few minutes his boss returned with a girl around his age. And to put it mildly, she was gorgeous. Her impossibly dark eyes gazed at him impassively, but he could tell she was analyzing him. "Jefferson, this is Angelica Schuyler. She'll be training you for the next few weeks. Schuyler, this is our new waiter, Thomas Jefferson."

All Thomas could do was stare at the stunning girl. She smirked. "Does he speak?"

That snapped him out of his trance. "Course I do, darling'. Though, the staring must not be new to you, huh?" He cursed himself; he had only just gotten out of a toxic relationship with Martha and know he was flirting with a girl he didn't even know? Old habits truly did die hard.

Angelica raised an eyebrow. "That the best you got?" She scoffed. "I have to say, I'm not very impressed." Before he could get a word in, she continued, "Going on your accent, you must not be from around here. I'm guessing... Virginia?"

Thomas' eyes went wide at the statement. "How did you...?"

She laughed and the sound instantly made his ears ring in pleasure. "Your accent isn't too thick, so I assumed you were from the more northern parts of Virginia."

He looked to his boss for help and he shrugged. "I've learned to just go along with it. Schuyler teach him well." He narrowed his eyes at the two. "And no funny business on the job." With that, he retreated to the back room.

The two eighteen year olds glanced at each other before snickering. "So, why did you decide to move here?" asked Angelica casually.

Thomas shrugged. "Just decided it was time for a change, darlin'."

She nodded. "I can understand that."

He felt that there was more to that statement, but didn't dare press her. They had only just met, after all. "Why don't we get started?" he suggested.

She gave another nod. "Good idea. So what you want to do first..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this chapter seems rushed, that's because it is. I'm recovering from a high fever and I always burn out at the end. Anyway, please review!

**Author's Note:**

> I think this is off to an okay start. Freaking FF deleted my original ending, so I had to improvise a little. I apologize if it seems rushed. Also, the thing about Catherine cheating on Philip with someone named "John." That''s meant to be John Bradstreet, a friend of Philip and someone who people thought she was cheating on him with. I thought that'd be a nice little touch. Anyway, please review and tell me what you think!


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